


Duties

by sp00kworm



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bacta Tank, Darth Vader's Spa, Disturbing Themes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Meditation, Meditation Chamber, Prosthetic Limbs, Sad with a Happy Ending, Trashing Krennic, Violence, body issues, gay old men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 08:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14040450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00kworm/pseuds/sp00kworm
Summary: When Darth Vader doesn't report in after a mission, Tarkin goes looking for him. What he didn't expect to find was a man broken by the Empire's askings of him, nor did he intend to walk in on the Sith trying to enjoy a Bacta healing tank session.





	Duties

The doors closed with a sliding hiss and Vader stormed through the doors slamming them shut behind him with a flick of his wrist, the force dragging them closed. Alarms whirled at the damage and the Dark Lord nearly groaned in irritation as he punched his security over ride into the system and locked down the room. He wanted to be alone and made sure that no one would be disturbing him. The room brightened with the acceptance of his code and small circular lights embedded into the metal ceiling turned on to reveal the large meditation chamber. The dome hummed to life before the top detached with a whoosh of air, raising into the air as Vader approached the dark coloured metal, taking the steps briskly before seating himself, removing the cape from underneath his shoulder guards and tossing it over the back of the chair.

The capsule began to close with his weight in the chair and the automated system began speaking, “Welcome Lord Vader. Would you like me to cancel all appointment and restrict communications?” The artificial intelligence system, having learnt his habits, had already turned them off but awaited the confirmation to restrict communications to only the highest-ranking individuals in the Galactic Empire, the Grand Moff and the Emperor. The seal of the meditation pod met, and the ventilation system buzzed to life forcing air into the pod at a higher pressure than outside the pod. Vader sat still as a claw like appendage extended from the ceiling and pulled his helmet free, its little needle like fingers popping the helmet open with a muffled wheeze. The ache of his spasming lungs was like pinpricks of pain for a moment before they managed to begin to move once more, his diaphragm extended and retracting to allow the Sith to breathe.

The happy voice of the droid was silenced as Vader muted the system, sitting back in his chair and taking a deep wheezing breath, closing his burning eyes for a moment to listening to the hum of the artificial system around him. The only place in which he could remove his suit and his life support. Holding his head in his hands he ran his gloves over his head, recoiling at the scars and grooves with a flinch before clenching his fists and smashing one into the console in front of him. The droid system unmuted itself and chastised him before pulling the buttons away from the Dark Lord and presenting a glass of something.  
“What is this droid?” He grunted flexing his arm to pick up the glass, eyeing the orange contents. The thick liquid smelt sweet and he watched small bits of churned fruits float in it.   
“It is the blend of fruits you requested, sir.” The droid deadpanned and retracted the small claw that had held the drink out. Vader nodded and held the small straw to his lips, taking a sip of the sickly-sweet fruit mixture. The taste made him smile a little, the corners of his cracked lips twitching upwards.

The Sith Apprentice had been sent to the outer rim to put down an insurgency on one of the remote planets of the galaxy. The small population had been hijacking and destroying imperial shipments for a few months, the fuels being their main target, and it had left the imperial forces starved of resources and an easy target to the insurgents. The Emperor had seen it as necessary to send the fear mongering symbol of the empire to deal with them. They had screamed his name as he’d walked into the caves. The stormtroopers of his brigade were stationed at the eastern exit shooting down all those who tried to escape. Vader was to flush the rebel scum out of their little hiding holes. His light saber tore through the door to the base with ease and the closest man next to him, the saber piercing his torso, the uttering of Vader falling from his lips in a wheeze of air. The screaming had begun then. Men and women ran, dragging their children. Other were only tiny hurdles in his way. Cutting them down in a glorious dance of red light to the music of their howls and cries.

Slicing through another security lock, Vader watched the doors open before stepping through, the thrumming of his light saber a reminder of the anger infused kyber crystal within the metal hilt. Badly drawn pictures were hung on one wall and a few lingering holograms indicated that it was in fact a care area for the children. Vader glanced about the room, his own breathing loud in the silence and he walked forwards, his heavy prosthetics in his thick boots thumping across the floor. He could sense a power in the room and he turned slowly towards a large cupboard.

A hiccupping cry gave the gaggle of living beings away and Vader reached out with the force before harshly pulling the doors open. The career in the cupboard cried out and pulled the children behind her. Vader quickly lifted her and tossed her aside. She landed in a broken heap across the room, her back cracking against the stone wall. The children were silent with fear, a couple sobbed into their hands in the face of the monster from their nightmares. ‘Beware Vader’ they had been told, no longer a man, more machine, with the cold fury of the Emperor coursing through him. Some even claimed him to have been created as an abomination by the Emperor. Their terrified faces reflected in the lenses of his helmet and he watched them for a moment before igniting his light saber once more. There would be no survivors as per his orders.

Vader’s mood was foul by the time he had returned to the Death Star, having been stood pacing in various debriefings and forced to give his accounts of the encounter to three different people, he was sick and tired of it by the end of the journey. The Emperor had little to say beyond the usual, “As I expected of you, Lord Vader.” And the rest of the crew were made up of sniffling officers. He hadn’t the time nor the patience to listen to them grovel and he’s quickly retired to his own chambers to think, not having his meditation pod on the transport ship. Reaching the Death Star was relieving and so here he sat, stirring and stewing on his own emotions. Inevitably he knew he was stalling for time. His check up for the destroyed body he had, and the prosthetics was soon, but locking himself away with his foul mood seemed to be the only thing he was able to do. He couldn’t tell what the pain in his chest was anymore, a malfunction of his life support or a swelling of guilt that twisted deep. In a rush of images, he let his feet carry him to the private med bay and let the droids remove his limbs before watching the swirling colours through the liquid of the bacta tank, his eyelids drooping as the healing formula eased his scars. The droid sealed the doors behind him once more, the communications blocked to all those lower than him.

Tarkin stood on the bridge, his feet spread evenly, his hand cupping his chin as he thought, watching the stars blur by as the death star streaked through hyper space. The Emperor seemed to adore the Death Star project, but still it always seemed that they were being pitted against one another. The Sith Master seemed to also enjoy even pitting his student against other adversaries. Tarkin remembered the Inquisitor and how gleefully the Sith had pitted the two students off against one another. That sadistic glee was what kept most in line. For Tarkin it was a matter of respect, the man’s visions were in line with his own, but he also had respect for the knowledge of the former senator. His leadership had not lead them astray yet.

A small alarm ringing pulled Tarkin from his thoughts and he turned to look over at the officer manning the communication station. Looking down his crow nose he raised a single eyebrow at the young female.  
“It’s a holo from the Emperor, sir.” The woman stuttered, tumbling over her own words for a second before regaining her composure.  
“Open the line, officer.” Tarkin rotated on his heels and looked into the face of the Emperor, giving a small bow at the waist before addressing the Sith. “Emperor, what can I be of service with?”  
The hooded face of the Emperor scanned the room for a moment before speaking, “Perhaps this call would be best taken in private Grand Moff.” Tarkin nodded his head and waved his exit to the bridge, his second in command taking over as he mad his way to a conference room. With the door sealed he reopened the communication line and stood before the Emperor once more.

The grin of the Sith grew larger as he spoke, “Well done on yours and Lord Vader’s successful destruction of the rebel base in the outer rim Moff Tarkin, you have done well.”  
“Thank you Emperor, but I merely orchestrated the ground forces from here, Lord Vader saw to the mission’s completion.” Tarkin bowed his head but watched the Emperor through hard blue eyes, waiting for the true purpose of the call to be revealed.  
“Eager to be rid of me so soon? Fine, you are no fun sometimes Moff Tarkin…” Tarkin only smirked as he listened to the will of the Emperor.

It had been hours since Vader’s return, and the lack of presence at the meeting of the Moffs had been noted by several of the power-hungry leaders in attendance. Tarkin was confident in his ability to hold his ground, but sometimes the intimidating Sith came in handy, usually to shut some fool up at the large round table. The man would stand and listen to them debate before disappearing just as fast as he had appeared. Other times he would stay to speak to Tarkin, taking interest in the man’s work and sometimes to receive follow up stories to those they had told after the fall of the Galactic Republic. When Vader did not appear for those reminiscing times Tarkin began to worry. No one had seen him in over a day when he finally cleared his schedule to look for the Dark Lord himself.

Tarkin scoured the ship for a while before finally heading to Vader’s private chambers. He wasn’t in his meditation chamber nor the training room where the Sith would smash droids into bolts. It was strange for the man to be elsewhere. Tarkin pulled out a small data pad and flicked to the schedules, providing his credentials to access the Sith’s schedule. It was clear, all data and appointments had been removed from it. Frowning, the greying man tapped his chin, striding down the halls towards the medical wing of the Death Star. Hopefully he could find the Sith there.

The private rooms of the medical wing required a doctor’s clearance, or the highest clearance on the base, that being the Grand Moff’s credentials. The medical staff had tried to turn him away from the wing for a while but had soon given up after a stern glance and a stiff back. Imposing metal doors stood before him but were quickly moved aside as he scanned in his passcodes. Sliding with a hiss, the doors opened into something out of a mad scientist’s laboratory. Curling pipes lead to a large glass column in the middle of the room and Tarkin took a few curious steps forwards. The column was a tank full of bacta fluid, tinged green from the healing properties of the adatives of the liquid. Steam rushed from the vents at the top and Tarkin came to a halt beside the bubbling liquid, peering into the column, placing a palm against the cool glass.

Peering through the tank he watched as a figure floated closer. The pale skin of a man came into view and then the littering of scars crisscrossed and curvy in places, some faint and others harshly prominent. Tarkin’s eyes widened as an unknown face drifted into view, and he analysed the angular face of a man that was once well known to him. Suddenly the burning orange eyes of the Sith opened and anger flared in them for a moment, before Vader realised who was in front of him and frowned, his body suspended and attached to wires, the implanted circuits in the ends of his limbs strung high above him. Tarkin glanced upwards to see the wires and tubing and followed them back down into the fluid to Vader’s arms and legs and face.

Something shifted around Tarkin in that moment and items flew around him, raising up into the air, wires detaching from the ceiling.  
“Your little intimidation game will not work with me, Vader. But I will leave and allow for you to attire yourself.” The Moff brushed aside the snaking wires and floating pliers before exiting the room and returning to his own command. Vader would find him when he was ready.

Less than an hour later, a single loud knock resonated through Tarkin’s door to his chambers. The Moff pushed aside his work on the holo-table and filed in away virtually before telling his little droid to open the door. The unit did and there stood the Dark Lord, draped in black but without his cape by Tarkin’s door.   
“Grand Moff. I figured I should see you about… the matters at hand.” The respirator whooshed noisily as Vader spoke, crackling slightly as the Sith stepped over the threshold of Tarkin’s private apartments. Apartments was a lavish word, they were suitable for his needs and not entirely that lavish, more simple and effective.   
“Of course, Lord Vader. Let us take tea in the reception room, my back is hurting, and I could use the movement.” A small smile graced Tarkin’s features as he moved into the small drawing room, a few lounging chairs arranged around an artificial log fire. It was reminiscent of the log fire he’d had on Eriadu and had grown to appreciate greatly in his seasons on the plateau. Warmth meant survival, but now the fake fire was merely for homely reasons – his room temperature was easily adjusted by the system by the door. Vader stood until he was gestured to sit down.

Tarkin’s droid brought him tea, and left Vader out, knowing that the man couldn’t consume liquids outside of his meditation chamber, “Now what did you want to discuss.” Tarkin propped his feet up on a foot stool, show casing the fur slippers he had on. Vader ignored the movement but peered at Tarkin through the reflective filtered lenses of his helmet.  
“You cannot mention what you saw to anyone. No one knows of my…condition.” Vader gesticulated the words by motioning to his limbs.   
“Rest assured, no one will know of your injuries, Vader. What I am more concerned with is why you have been locked away for longer than a day after a mission. No injuries I hope?” Tarkin sipped his drink before placing the tea aside on a small table.   
“Nothing of the sort.” Vader shook his head, leaning back in the armchair, his bulk filling the chair completely, “There was something strange about my condition after…” He seemingly paused to breath, “the mission.”

Tarkin watched Vader over his steepled fingers, looking for body language. Vader was open, but his helmet was facing off to the side, staring into the fire as if haunted. The fake flames reflected in his head gear creating a strange, terrifying display like they were licking up the sides of the metal. The Moff knew something was amiss.  
“The mission went as planned. The rebel allied forces were decimated and control of the planet retaken…”He watched the unmoving Sith before him and sighed, “There were children weren’t there?” A single nod was his answer and he sighed before also looking at the log fire for a moment, gathering what to say next. “Serving the empire is not always easy Vader.”   
It was simple enough and Vader’s helmet reclined after a moment, his vocoder rumbling, “I know Tarkin…I know.” His leather gloves gripped the arms of the chair and Tarkin stood quickly making his way over before flattening the Sith’s hands, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on the mechanical joints as though to be able to feel them.

Vader looked up at the Moff, his head tilted to one side, flames dancing in the lenses of his helmet. Tarkin shook his head with a soft smile, “Still so soft after so many years. It will be your downfall…” he squeezed the Sith’s shoulder before placing one single kiss on top of the helmet. Vader chuckled and squeezed the hand in his grasp, lamenting over the singular feeling of pressure.   
“Perhaps. But I still do not trust this station, Tarkin. This technological terror will only hold them in line for so long. Your arrogance and hunger may see you fall like Krennic.” Tarkin shook his head at the comparison, rolling his eyes before running a hand over the smooth surface of the Sith’s helmet and walking away, his hands behind his back.   
“Pah that fool had it coming. This project was far too important to be in his inexperienced hands. He would have destroyed it along with himself.”

Vader watched the older male stride away and chuckled lowly, “You take offense too easily.” He stood from the chair and held his belt before walking towards the door, stooping to give Tarkin’s waist a squeeze. “I will return, but first I must report to the Emperor.” Tarkin nodded and watched the huge bulking form of the Sith leave, glad to at least have had some time before their duties took over again.

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DOES NO ONE SHIP THESE GAY OLD MEN GDI. Just something I wanted to whip up please help me.


End file.
